


Why Is He Looking At You Like That? [Kink: Predicament]

by Toozmanykids



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston Fandom
Genre: Awkwardness, Established Relationship, F/M, Home Improvement, Predicament Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:15:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toozmanykids/pseuds/Toozmanykids
Summary: How many screws does it take to change the balance of power?Some couples work well together in DIY situations. Some couples don't. When you decide to tackle this project by yourself, you fail miserably and your own treasured baggage weighs you down further. You expect Tom to tease you relentlessly for this, much to your chagrin. You already know that this will become the star anecdote for dinner parties to come until the end of time long after your death.But will Tom's reaction this time be as benign as you predicted?
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	Why Is He Looking At You Like That? [Kink: Predicament]

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a comment on a Tom photo edited and posted by @lolawashere on Tumblr that got away from me back in May 2020 - completely forgotten until I stumbled upon it the other day. So I made a few edits and... Voici! Here ya go!
> 
> If you squint, this is half predicament bondage / half home installation project gone comically wrong, and depends on your own imagination.
> 
> The included image of 'exercise equipment' (*cough cough *wink) was randomly found in some product review somewhere. For all intent and purpose, it is merely used as reference in my fictional story written merely for personal entertainment and as a contribution to this fan community. I probably originally sent the image to my husband to show him, "I want one of these!" Alas, I continue to fantasize bc #1 we still don't have one and #2 Tom is not my husband.

Why is he looking at you like that?

You had been so insistent that you could handle things alone.  
You had been so insistent that you didn't need his help at all.  
You had been so insistent that you didn't need ANYONE.

You weren't going to wait. You didn't need his permission. You weren't a CHILD!

But then he found you. He caught you red handed, didn't he? 

He was smiling, because...  
He KNEW you would do this.  
He KNEW you would dive right in.  
He KNEW you couldn't hold out.  
He KNEW you couldn't wait for him.  
He KNEW you'd storm in without caution.  
AND...  
He KNEW you'd wait until he was gone to do it.

So stubborn. So damn proud. So head strong. So fucking predictable.

He couldn't help but relish your helplessness now.  
He couldn't resist pointing out, "I told you so." 

He got a fucking hard on just waiting for you to ask for help.

In order to really get under your skin, he pulled up a chair to listen to all your excuses, adjusting his position a few times to counter the extra tightness at his inseam. His patronizing nods and soft grunts were part of his famous active listening routine that yet again temporarily disarmed you. Your muddled attempt to justify your carelessness fueled him and undermined your demand for compassion and mercy. Patience and restraint, two of his greatest strengths, enabled him to wait as long as necessary for you to admit where you went wrong. He even had the gall to offer a cup of tea to go with your humble pie.

You declined the tea because #1 you were upside down, and #2 because he was being a self-righteous ASS right then.

Ohhhh, you just hated him sometimes! So fucking smug! You daydreamed about smacking him across that pompous grin he wore if he would just come a little closer, if he would just bend down so you could reach his beautiful face.

But instead you berated yourself more.

Why had you been so rash and rushed in? Why did the idea of needing him make you act so foolish and obstinate? Why were you so scared to accept his help? What the hell were you trying to prove, and to prove it to whom?

Too often stupid minutia like this symbolized your drive for independence. Some warped logic ingrained deep inside equated asking for help as surrender, and you'd be damned to admit defeat in this internal battle. Sensibility and realism were repeatedly cast aside in your drive to maintain a false version of self-sufficiency created in your mind years and years ago.

Being with someone should never mean you lose your freedom.

Yet here you were - trapped. Literally.

And now you needed him.

Without his help you'd be trapped forever.

Without him... you might die like this!

Were you condemned to view this world upside-down for the rest of eternity as penance for allowing your brain to ignore facts in favor of your fragile pride?

OH, THE HUMILIATION!

And he was loving it.

Was he the Devil himself?

The more you hated this, the more petulant you acted, and the harder you resisted asking for help, then the more he enjoyed seeing you like this - so helpless and needy. He sat happily waiting until you would finally beg for his involvement, until ultimately you would plead to be rescued.

That demon with the angel face sat straight and tall in your favorite wing back chair re-upholstered in the fairy tale themed green toile you had chosen together. He had purposefully dragged the large heavy oak chair across the room at a torturously slow pace. Grooves now scratched into the wood floor would serve as future reminders for you both of this comical dilemma he found you in. His knees manspread as far open as the chair would allow, showcasing his trapped erection which pulled his trousers so tight over his left thigh they looked painted on.

"So little Annie Oakley, how could you have possibly ended up like this accidentally? Are you sure you didn't tie yourself up so prettily as a belated birthday gift for me?"

Your snarls and huffs of warning did little to diminish his satisfaction. In fact his enthusiasm built with each dagger your eyes shot at him. His usual good natured teasing always faithfully acquiesced eventually or once your temper hit boiling point at least, but not this time. Instead his nature changed before your very eyes.

"I surely applaud you, darling, because you have created a vision that I never knew I needed so desperately in my life." With those last words his nostrils flared slightly and he licked his lips; his eyes traveled up to the ceiling and back down to your face. His grin broadened as your grimace began to soften toward worry and confusion.

"Dammit Tom! Are you going to help me get untangled from this thing, or are you going to leave me upside down for another hour?" Your struggle to stay authoritative manifested itself with a high pitched squeak escaping your voice box, ridiculously reminiscent of your little brother's pubescent voice when it cracked over a lifetime ago.

His response was a chuckle so deep and so ominous that you barely recognized the sounds as his. The sounds gave you goosebumps and hot tingles that spread across your chest traveling to your fingertips and circling along your thighs as your pelvic muscles twitched.

Fuck. Anger had always kept you strong and dominant, in control of the situation and of yourself, but this arousal building inside you felt new. It felt dangerous and it was a direct visceral response to that look on his face and the distinct change of cadence in his voice. You didn't know whether to run to him or away from him. Neither was an option, of course, leaving you completely defenseless at his mercy, subject to whatever whim he was mulling over. You were most definitely not in control of this situation and you had no idea how you felt about.that.

Fuck.

This was new.

This was definitely exciting!

  
A comment from MoonCat163 inspired me to attempt this manip.

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I should have put a trigger warning for the grooves scratched into the floor. *Shudder. I think that's the most painful image for me!
> 
> It was only after editing and rereading this several times did I realize that I totally have a kink for awkward and embarrassing predicaments. This predicament involves a choice between option #1 staying in the clumsy, awkward, humiliating, and increasingly uncomfortable entanglement our protagonist/reader fell into, and option #2 submitting to Tom, admitting defeat, accepting the help he is offering. Of course for added spice, it looks like Tom may have additional unknown consequences included in option #2. 
> 
> This is written from the perspective that you and Tom have a good, loving, fun, healthy relationship. Rarely do spats grow into anything worse. All play is based on a blanket consent (if that's a way to describe it) and mutual respect. Even so, this is just written in fun and not to be taken seriously. I do, however, love learning more and discussing such topics to no end.


End file.
